The next morning when his father had already left, Will rushed out at ten o'clock sharp. He was curious as to how they would get where they had to go - it struck him that he did not know how Professor Trimble had gotten into the barracks in the first place.
Trimble was leaning against the wall just outside. When he saw Will, he straightened.
"Ah, Mister Davis. Ready for your big trip, I hope?"
Will nodded eagerly.
"Now, in truth I am not meant to use magic to travel when I am with you. Something about underage muggle-raised children and the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy… However, we must make a small exception in this case to spirit ourselves just outside of the barracks."
"How can we do that? Sir?" asked Will.
Trimble smiled thinly. "Would you be so kind as to hold onto my left arm?"
Curious, Will did as he was told and held the man's arm firmly.
And suddenly, the world disappeared and was replaced by a black mass pressing him from every direction at once, squeezing him through a tiny space, crushing his skull and wrenching at his eyeballs and tearing at his limbs. He could not breathe, he could not move even as he felt himself being ripped in an uncertain direction, the only thing he was conscious of was that his hand still grasped the professor's arm.
Just as suddenly, it stopped and the world reappeared but it was different. They were no longer outside of the private's apartment and instead had somehow left the barracks - Will was just able to perceive this as he staggered to one side, his insides screaming as he made several retching sounds.
"There now, boy, it's over."
After a few seconds, Will straightened to see Trimble looking down at him sympathetically.
"Sorry about that. It's better not to warn people - terrifies them so much that they might let go."
"What was that?" croaked Will.
"Apparition. We moved instantly from one place to another."
"Do they teach that at Hogwarts?"
"Only late in your school career, and only if you want to. Not a very pleasant experience, is it?"
Will shook his head.
"Come on now, there's our cab!"
He turned to see a horse-drawn carriage wait for them. Why exactly they could not just have apparated to where they needed to go was beyond Will but it probably had something to do with the 'International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy', whatever that was… He got on after Trimble as the man muttered a destination to their driver.
"Have you looked at the list of the things you need yet?" asked Trimble as the cab started moving.
Will nodded.
"Could you get out the letter?"
Will did so and once again looked at the second page. It read:
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One set of formal robes (dark blue)
3. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
4. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide)
5. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
An Introduction to Charms by Tangwystl Pennifold
Spellwork Simplified by Cuthbert Felbrigg
An Overview of Magical History by Peregrine Jewkes
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
Understanding Transfiguration by Thomasine Winstringham
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
A Beginner's Guide to Potions by Lettice Cantilupe
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Astronomy for Amateurs by Sigrith Maynwaring
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 standard potion kit bag
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set scales (brass)
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad OR a rat.
Yours sincerely,
Ursula Bridget Freville
Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions
"Can we get all this in London?" asked Will.
"Easily enough, if you know where to go," said Trimble.
Will coughed. "Sir… When it says 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble'…"
Trimble grinned. "Yes, that's me. It does come off a little conceited, assigning your own book - or so I think anyway - but I did write it specifically for teaching."
Will thought it was awfully clever, writing your own book, but thought it might be rude to inquire further. Instead, he turned to something else that made him curious. "Sir, what is the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy?"
"Attentive little thing, aren't you?"
Will shrugged, not sure whether it was a compliment.
"It's one of the principal laws in the wizarding world. Its purpose is to stop muggles from finding out about us. Witches and wizards, that is."
"Why do wizards need to hide, sir?"
"That's a complicated question. The short version is that muggles hunted wizards and witches more and more, and that the magical world decided to withdraw to protect itself."
Will frowned. "Couldn't they have used magic to… stop muggles from hunting magical people?"
"Some wanted to. But the simple fact is that there are far more of them than there are of us. And that witches and wizards were tired of being hunted."
As Will tried to digest this new information, his eyes took in the sights of London rushing past. He had seen barely anything of the vast city and it intimidated him, but he was curious to see where this carriage would take them. Where in London could one buy such exotic supplies as cauldrons, robes and - most excitingly - wands?
The answer, it turned out, lay in a most inauspicious location indeed. The cab stopped in front of a dingy-looking pub with a slightly wonky sign affixed to the top: The Leaky Cauldron. Will's brow furrowed as he and Trimble got off, the professor looking as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Will started wondering whether this was all some bizarre joke as the man headed for the door of the disreputable establishment and held it open for his young charge.
When Will entered, his doubts instantly faded. Men and women in hats and robes sat in small cushy chairs and at the bar, chatting loudly with their shopping in open display. Will could see glasses full of mysterious substances including what looked suspiciously like eyes, a man holding a toad rather firmly while lecturing his friend on the ills of new broomstick regulations, a witch animatedly waving her wand to demonstrate a particular point. As Trimble moved Will determinedly through the humdrum, Will caught little snatches of conversation around him.
"- and they told me it was two sickles and I asked them whether they were insane -"
"- so the minister told me, he told me himself, that if the goblins were to trouble us again he'd -"
"- and when the Tornados seeker caught that snitch, I knew it was over for old Barty -"
"- but he said they didn't have any awful teachers, so I do wonder how they manage it all so well -"
"- two sickles! Can you imagine?"
"Here we are, Will," said Trimble and led the boy through another door and into a small courtyard with a brick wall. He walked up to the wall and got out his wand. After tapping a brick, the whole wall started to shift and arrange itself anew to reveal a snug doorway. Will stared in wonder at this latest display of magic but did not get to pause for long as Trimble was already prodding him to continue.
"Welcome," he said as they stepped through the doorway, "to Diagon Alley."
Will's eyes almost dropped out. They had left ordinary London and in its place had found a world beyond his wildest dreams. As wizards and witches bustled around them, they rushed in and out of shops that made Will crane and turn his head in every direction. There were shops selling cauldrons, shops selling robes, an apothecary with a bright sign proclaiming 'fifty leeches for only a knut!', displays filled by odd instruments of silver and gold and rats jumping wildly in cages and books - oh the books! - piles of them with titles like Curses for the Uncurseable or What to Do When Fate Fires You or The Codex of Invisibility and Other Strange Powers. As Will stuck close to Trimble, almost having to break into a run sometimes to match the professor's long gait, he could barely keep control over his excitement. There was Ruggenall's Robes for Wizards & Witches, with two girls around Will's age standing outside:
"You know, I hope I'll be allowed to get one of those green hats."
"My mother won't buy me anything that isn't on the list!"
And there was a crowd of young children gathered outside Fletcher's Flying Supplies:
"That's the Lightning Strike Eight that is, fastest broom ever!"
"The Welsh have bought one for all of their players!"
"Can't make them fly any worse, not after that last world cup…"
And there, looming in front of them, was a huge marble building with a set of white stairs leading to burnished bronze doors.
"Gringotts," said Trimble. "That's the bank. We'll have to quickly pop in to get the allowance for muggle-raised children."
Panting slightly, Will followed the professor up the stairs. At the top stood a strange creature, short with a thin face and long fingers and dressed in a uniform of scarlet and gold. They clearly were not human and Will resolved to ask Trimble about them later… They passed him into a small entrance hall and walked up to another set of doors - silver this time - with a short poem engraved.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
Will looked up uncertainly at Trimble, who merely raised his eyebrows.
"Don't steal from here and you'll be fine."
The boy gulped as he followed the professor into a vast marble hall filled with long counters and doors leading to what he could only assume were the vaults. Trimble headed straight to a creature who was not currently occupied with a customer but was instead languidly examining a set of documents.
"Good day," said Trimble. "I am here to withdraw an allowance for a muggle-raised Hogwarts student."
The creature, perched above his two customers, looked down slowly. "Name?"
"William Davis," said the professor.
The creature reached a hand into a drawer and withdrew a long list, scanning it for a time before alighting on a name right at the bottom. "This was a short-term request?"
"Yes. We only received notice of Mr Davis' residence in this country a short while ago."
"Very well. He is in first year?"
"Yes."
"Then he will receive the standard amount of five sickles, fifteen knuts and twenty obols. Is this satisfactory?"
"It is," said Trimble as Will frowned at the strange words.
"I require a signature here," said the creature and handed Will a form and a quill. Will awkwardly signed it against the counter with a spidery, unused signature, then handed it back. Next thing he knew, he had been handed a small pouch with a comforting clank and feel of coins.
As they left, Will peered inside to see a small collection of silver, bronze and iron coins.
"53 obols in a knut, 29 knuts in a sickle, 17 sickles in a galleon," said Trimble, watching him. "Sounds complicated but you'll catch on soon enough."
"How much is this worth, roughly?" asked Will.
"More than enough to buy you everything you need and get you through the year, though you might have to get a few things second hand," said Trimble. They had exited Gringotts and were now back in the busy street.
"And what were those… creatures, inside?"
"Those were goblins. You won't be taught about them in my subject but I would nevertheless advise you never to cross one."
Will shuddered a little. There was so much he did not know.
"Now then, how about we get you some robes?"
They headed down an alley of the side of Gringotts and into a small shop of second hand robes. Fifteen minutes later, Will once again emerged, now with sets of robes and a hat and other required school garments including a tie. It had been strange to don robes and a pointed had and he had felt a little silly inspecting himself in the mirror the first time, but he imagined he would get used to it quickly enough. Next, they headed back to the main street, past a particularly large bookshop named Flourish & Blott's and into Scribulus Writing Implements where Will got several quills and an impressive supply of ink. Tearing himself away from a display of glittering, colour-changing ink, they then entered Slug & Jigger's Apothecary. Will's senses were assaulted by the strange odours and sights that awaited him, with signs like 'bat spleens - 10 obols each' and 'ravens' eyes - 3 knuts to a pound' and 'dragon liver - 15 knuts an ounce'. Trimble dealt with the man at the counter as Will inspected some black beetle eyes for 10 obols a scoop. Was this what wizards used to make medicine? The ingredients seemed so bizarre - Will contemplated how exactly one might use horned slugs (13 knuts each) to cure colds.
But soon enough, Will had to leave the displays, now equipped with a standard potion kit bag containing some of the supplies he would need for potions. Regrettably, he did not have time to inspect this new treasure before he was taken to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. Next to it was a brightly coloured shop called Tiploft's Tricks and Treats with small fireworks exploding and clowns' heads flying in the window sill that Will would have dearly liked to enter, but Trimble regarded it rather huffily and steered the boy determinedly past it. Soon, Will had a pewter cauldron, a set of glass phials, a telescope and a set of scales. It felt very exciting to pay for all of this with his own money and he did not think he had ever gotten this many things at once.
But the best was still to come. Trimble took his bags off him as they entered the second hand bookshop next to a café. Will could barely contain his delight as he raced from pile to pile, looking at books about werewolves and alchemy and wandlore and the dark arts… Trimble watched him with some amusement as he asked the shopkeeper for the first year set of books.
"Keen reader, are you?"
Will looked at Trimble with wide eyes. "There's… so much here!"
The professor snorted. "Headed for Ravenclaw, I suspect."
Will did not have time to interrogate this mysterious remark and instead excitedly rifled through books about wizarding history and custom.
"You can get a lot of books in the Hogwarts library," said Trimble. "If you want anything we don't have, you can always order it."
Nevertheless, Will asked the professor rather nervously if he could buy a copy of Magical Maladies: How to Treat Everything from the Common Cold to Dragon Pox.
"What do you want that for?" asked Trimble.
"Just some light reading, sir," mumbled Will.
Despite looking suspicious, Trimble let the boy buy the book. Now thoroughly weighted down by bags, Will stumbled back down Diagon Alley with the professor walking alongside him.
"I think we have everything - except a wand!"
Will's heart beat faster. This was surely the most exciting thing he needed. A wand like the one Trimble had, one that would allow him to do real magic! He could hardly wait.
On the other side of the street, another shop caught his attention. Eeylop's Owl Emporium was just next to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment and just at that moment there seemed to be a loud commotion and the sound of many birds flapping around excitedly inside.
"Wonder what happened there," said Trimble, seeing where Will was looking. "Maybe some kid let off a dungbomb inside, happens every year."
"Are owls common pets in the wizarding world?" asked Will, recalling the Hogwarts letter.
"They're used to deliver the post. Most families have one."
"Do I need one to keep in touch with my parents?" asked Will with a frown. It struck him suddenly that it seemed unlikely normal post would reach Hogwarts.
"No, you can use school owls. Don't worry about it."
And indeed, Will put it out of his mind, for at that moment they stood in front of a rather shabby-looking shop with peeling gold letters over the door of the shop that read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. Several wands lay in the display on plush green pillows and there were several posters displaying - moving! - figures waving long sticks emitting colourful sparks.
"Go on," said Trimble, taking the other bags from Will. "You get your wand; I'll wait here with all the shopping."
Will took a deep breath and entered, the door opening with a painful creak and a merry jingling of bells. He proceeded to the middle of the seemingly empty store, thinking how small it was. There was not much in it apart from a counter in one corner and a few chairs in the other. Against the walls were stacked thousands of narrow boxes right to the ceiling.
Just then, a spindly man emerged from a door in the corner. He had a rather harrowed, tired look around him and took one look at Will before nodding decisively.
"First year? Here for a wand?"
"Yes," said Will, then realised he had not made an audible sound because his throat was so dry. He cleared his throat and tried again: "Yes, sir."
"Good. Hmm, looking at you…" He inspected the boy more closely and brought out a tape measure. With a snap of his fingers, the tape measure proceeded to measure his various limbs as the man looked on. "Wand arm?"
"Eh… I'm right handed."
The man, who Will assumed was Ollivander, snapped his fingers again and the tape measure fell to the ground. He proceeded to remove one of the thin boxes and opened it to reveal a wand.
"Here, take this one. Blackthorn with horn extract from a particularly fine graphorn. Ten and three quarter inches, nice and swishy."
Will picked up the wand and was about to wave it when Ollivander took it from him.
"No… That's not right. Try this one. Sycamore with dragon heartstring. A fairly bendy thirteen inches."
He tried to wave it but once again the wand left his hand before it could.
"Hmm… Oh, I know! Alder and kelpie hair, unyielding. Twelve and a quarter inches."
But once again, the wandmaker was dissatisfied. As Will tested several more wands, he wondered what exactly the man was looking for. How could he even tell if a wand chose him?
"Acacia and unicorn hair. Twelve and three quarter inches. Slightly springy. Go on, give it a wave."
As Will gripped the wand, a warmth instantly spread through his arm. He waved it and silver dust poured out of it, covering everything around him so that it shimmered.
"Oh, excellent!"
"That was great!" a new voice said and Will looked up to see a grinning girl look down at him. She climbed down the ladder and stuck out her arm. "I'm Gwen. I'm starting Hogwarts this year too."
Will shifted the wand and shook the hand. "Will. Pleased to meet you." He realised that this must be a school for both girls and boys, though it should have been obvious from the mention of Witchcraft in the school's title…
"Nice wand that chose you. Mine's cedar and kelpie hair, eleven and a half inches, fairly supple. I got it earlier this summer."
"Gwenaëlle! You have to stop doing this," said the old man. "I'm sorry, my daughter is incorrigible."
"It's fine, sir," said Will.
"Gervaise, I told you to keep an eye out on her!" called Ollivander.
A haggard-looking boy looked over the rails and groaned. "How can I, father? I swear, that girl can apparate…"
"Go up," said Ollivander to Gwen.
"I'll see you in Hogwarts," said Gwen and reluctantly climbed back up the ladder.
"That'll be two sickles, please."
Will paid, then left the store with the narrow box clasped firmly in his hands. He had a wand! And he had met one of the people he would be going to Hogwarts with. He grinned at Trimble when he emerged.
"Happy with your wand?" asked Trimble, raising an eyebrow.
"Very."
"Good. Now that's all done with, how about I get you some hot chocolate before bringing you back home?"
Will's eyes widened. "That would be amazing, sir!"
Ten minutes later, they were seated in Bexley's Bubbling Coffeeshop with a plate of cookies and a mug of hot chocolate for Will and a cup of coffee for Trimble, which he sipped at slowly. Will showed no such restraint and bit into the cookies with relish. They were far better than rations.
"There's still a month before term starts but I'm sure you can keep yourself more than busy with your textbooks. I'd advise you against doing any… experiments outside of the safe confines of Hogwarts, however. You cannot be punished for using magic outside of school yet, but it is not recommended."
Will nodded. He had no intention of getting in trouble before even getting to school. If he could avoid it. "I was wondering, sir," he said, thinking back to the encounter in Ollivander's, "do most students come from magical households?"
Trimble nodded. "The vast majority do. But there are a few raised by muggles. I wouldn't worry about that; in my experience those raised by muggles do no worse academically than those raised by wizards."
"But it's not only about academics, is it?" asked Will, a little frustration entering his voice. "There are so many customs, traditions, that wizard children have learnt since infancy and that I'll be unaware of! How will I not make a fool of myself?"
Trimble regarded him closely. "Most children raised in magical households would never hold it against you. And I'd advise you to avoid associating with the ones who do."
"That might not be my choice to make," muttered Will.
"You are entering a world governed by a set of complex rules and laws. While your classmates may have something of a head start over you, you'd do well to remember that they don't know everything either. Instead of worrying uselessly about it, all you can do is throw yourself into it. Don't be afraid to ask questions. Certainly don't be afraid to make a fool of yourself. Otherwise, you won't learn anything."
Will regarded the deputy headmaster sceptically after this little speech. It was all fine for him to say that it was fine to make a fool of yourself, but he wouldn't have to deal with these kids for seven years. If there was one thing Will knew, it was that children were vicious, and he suspected magical children were just the same as non-magical ones in that regard. He sighed. The professor was probably right - there was no point in worrying about it.
They finished their drinks, then departed from Diagon Alley with bulging bags. Back through the Leaky Cauldron and into the muggle world once more. It was a warm afternoon. Will looked around as the waited for the cab, struck by how ordinary everything was. How strange to imagine that a whole, magical world was just out of sight.
Trimble apparated in front of the door to the apartment. Will took it slightly better than the first time, but he still felt like throwing up. He could not imagine ever getting used to this magical mode of transport.
"I'll leave you here," said Trimble. "Here's your ticket. Second of September, 11 o'clock at King's Cross. I'll see you then."
Will accepted the thin slip of paper and inspected it. London to Hogwarts for One Way Travel. Platform Nine and Three Quarters. "Platform Nine and Three Quarters?" asked Will. "I don't think there's a Platform Nine and Three Quarters!" He looked up, but the professor was already gone.